Sweet Misery
by SherbetKitty
Summary: It's like making a deal with the devil - wrong, forbidden and completely insane - but you find yourself liking that sweet taste of danger that lingers on his lips. TRMM. ONESHOT.


Disclaimer: Not mine :( Everyone and everything belongs to the queen, JKR. Even my heart.

A/N: Hello! First of all, thank you for reviewing and fave-ing _The Anagram_! And now I return with another TR/MM fic. I'm not quite sure what this one is, but it's my first time writing in second person and also writing an M-ish fic. The title comes from _Sweet Misery_ by Michelle Branch. Everyone should go and listen to that song right now. Inspired by my friend, Munchkin~ and Adele's _Rolling in the Deep_. Please enjoy and leave a review!

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><p>The room is dim, but you can see everything clearly. His face bears no expression as he approaches you. "I'm sorry," he says, but you know he doesn't mean it. He never does, but you admit, he is very convincing and most of the time you believe him.<p>

He smiles a charming smile and you feel your boldness slipping. Some Gryffindor you are. Your throat is dry and you lick your lips nervously, but he interprets this differently. He gently takes your hand, kissing it softly. You make a move to pull away but although he is gentle, he has a firm grip. "Why did you call her that?" you ask him before you lose your courage completely. A minute ago, you were positive you were angry, but now that you are face to face, you aren't so sure.

He doesn't miss a beat. "It slipped out."

"It's a disgusting word. She didn't even do anything to you," you say, trying not to fall into his charms. You aren't prepared for his sudden display of anger.

"You will never understand!" he spits out. Then he composes himself. "It was an accident."

"That is some accident. I want you to apologise to her." You ignore the feeling in your stomach as he trails soft kisses up your arm. He still has not answered you as he reaches your collarbone. You wonder when exactly it was when you were no longer in charge of the situation. Eventually, you push him away, "Please, apologise."

He looks at you directly and you notice a strange glint in his eyes. You are brave, but you are also afraid. You know what he is capable of and you have seen it. Sometimes you wonder how he has this effect on you. He can be charming and perfect and you feel as though you could love him forever, but he also terrifies you and you wonder if you are as trapped as you seem. "I'm sorry," he repeats calmly. "It won't happen again." You notice that he does not agree to apologise for his actions and open your mouth to say something, but as you do, he captures your lips in his own.

And you find yourself kissing back.

You swear you can feel a smirk on his lips and you try to pull away but you can't. Whether it is because he is holding you tightly or because you can't find it in you to move, you allow him to take over. Before you know it, he has you pushed up against the wall and you both know he has the upper hand. He's touching you and manipulating you, knowing that you will respond. It's like making a deal with the devil - wrong, forbidden and completely insane - but you find yourself liking that sweet taste of danger (or was it evil?) that lingers on his lips.

Your heart is beating furiously and you're certain that he can hear it. "Forget about it," his voice is low and husky in your ear. "Come with me and we will rule the world together." It is a generous proposal, you must admit. No one has given you that line before.

Any sort of reply you had formed disappears as his hand slips up your skirt, gripping your thigh. You let out an involuntary shudder but pull him closer, bringing your lips together once again. This time you _know_ he is smirking but you don't care because all you can focus on are his hands roaming your body, tracing patterns on your skin.

He hisses softly as you slide your hands under his shirt. You both stumble clumsily (mostly you because _he_ is in total control) towards the bed, both burning with desire, but only one of you questioning your actions. You know everything about him is wrong but you keep coming back. He is a drug - alluring, fascinating and absolutely addictive. You can't stay away.

You know that you are fighting a losing battle as his skin meets yours. You find yourself forgiving him for his actions as your tongues mingle. His hands are tangled in your hair and your whimpers fill the air. You decide that his smirk is annoying and infuriating, but also dangerously captivating as he drives you both over the edge. Your breathing is laboured and you take pleasure knowing that he is also breathing with difficulty, a sign of his control faltering.

And as you are lying in a tangled mess of sheets and sweat, you know that he has won. He will always win. But deep down you don't really mind because despite everything he makes you feel and everything that he does, you love him.

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><p>AN: This took me a while. Well, it took me a while to get it right. There was something about it that wasn't _perfect_... But I'm happy with it now and I hope you are too. Has anyone read Minerva's backstory on Pottermore btw? Isn't she amazing? Kinda disappointed at the lack of Tom in her past though, but apparently JKR changed Minerva's birth year… Boo. Add me if you want – CharmMoonstone86 (Ravenclaw!), and let me know who you are! :) Thank you for your time. Don't forget to leave a review!


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